Flash Fiction: Small Spaces (99 words)

She was losing days. Folding into spaces small enough to fit between two hands, she was passing through hours, never quite knowing how she would climb back out. She forgot herself, forgot how ankles and knees and hips were supposed to fit between bones, and how she was supposed to move any of them. If she moved, it was just her eyes, just her hands, just her idling fingers.

One page turn, and then another, and she was losing her days in the space pressed between thin paper, her body forgotten in the corner of the window. And finding some other lifetimes.

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Flash Fiction: Small Spaces (99 words)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s